


'39

by Zugzwang (thunderdone)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Dystopian society, F/M, M/M, One Hour Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3417239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderdone/pseuds/Zugzwang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dystopian society where love is more or less banned, but the two main characters fall in love anyways so oh shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'39

**Author's Note:**

> AYYE sorry I've been kind of lazy the past few weeks, I've been really sick, and thus, lazy as fuck. So, a comrade and I both did a version of the One Hour Challenge, where you have one hour to fill a prompt. She was the one who gave me this one, and this is the really shitty result.

Dystopia Love AU - It is illegal to fall in love, and you can only be with the person you were assigned to. OTP goes and falls in love anyways. 

Michael never planned to be assigned to anyone, ever. From an early age, he decided he never wanted to be married off to some son of a bitch, or daughter of a bitch, same difference. Others all around him; his parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, all accepted it somehow, but he could tell that there was no real feeling there, just mush. It was just a weird human sandwich, he once in a logbook he had been given, the peanut butter and jelly didn't want to be put together, they just were. 

At first, he thought of running away, as most do. He would preferably have a fairy-tale ending, where he would get away bumped and bruised but overall alright. Michael dreamed that he would find some rebel society, one where he was free to love whomever he pleased. Even if he couldn't have some lovey-covey ending, he could go out with a bang, the scream of a bullet and a plea for justice. But death didn't feel too appealing to him, ever, yet there always was that possibility. 

Once or twice he thought of trying to hack into the system, figure out a way to get him and the person he loved into the life he wanted them to have. Bur without access to much technology, especially none that he could learn to hack with, he quickly gave up that hope. Michael also thought of maybe going off and protesting, maybe, get the government listen to him and others on his side, get attention of the people who went along like little robots, emotionless and inactive without orders. Again, death didn't taste so well. 

But time ticked on, and the day of the Proposal (along with the irony of its name) came forwards. He would be pledged to another, whom he may not have even met before, would take his hand for good, and he would be left empty. The fact that they wouldn't even go with his actual gender preference really rubbed him the wrong way as he carefully dressed in his nicest clothes, that he was willing to put on. 

Michael walked out the door at 900 hours, sharp, his parents trailing behind him. He made faint attempts to make his button-up shirt any more comfortable than it always was, tugging the collar in annoyance, but eventually resigning the fact that he wouldn't ever be fully comfortable ever again. 

"Michael!" The voice came from behind him, easily recognizable. The latter turned, stopping to wait for the odd excuse for a friend ran up to him, grinning lopsidedly. "Michael! Boi! Aren't you excited?" Gavin bounced on the balls of his feet cheerily, flicking his stringy blond hair from his eyes as he twitched around excitedly. As per usual, his shirt tail was untucked, flicking out behind him as he moved, and his top button had fallen, undone. 

Michael sighed as he carefully buttoned up his friend's final button, nodding a little. "Yeah, I'm so ecstatic, Gavin, absolutely radiating excitement. Tuck in your fucking tail, why don't you." The blond twisted, squawking as he twisted, quickly doing as he was told before facing forwards towards the redhead, whom had already started walking once again, hands shoved deep inside his pants pockets.

The two walked together towards the center of the town, to the stadium that had been put up for the "enjoyment" of the viewers of the ceremony, as it was put up every four years. The brides and grooms sat in their own sections, but wherever they pleased, since it was "their day". Gavin and Michael naturally sat together, joined after a while by their comrades Ray and Kdin. They were allowed to talk for the five minutes remaining before the ceremony, but there wasn't really much to talk about. They wouldn't be seeing once another often any longer, and goodbyes were difficult. 

The ceremony commenced. For a good portion, Michael found himself fascinated by a bit of plastic on his chair that had stuck up abnormally, and he paid no attention to what was going on. I a seemingly random order, his friends were called up, paired with another, and were sent behind the stage for a mystery. Michael was the third one to be called, after Gavin Free and Kdin Jensen. 

"Michael Jones, please step forwards." 

He looked up at his name and exchanged an apologetic look with Ray as he stood and walked down the isle, to the stairs before the stage. Unwillingly, he walked up them and stood in front of the announcer. The man had a plastered on smile, face etched with permanent lines of excitement, only outshone by the bombastic yellow bow tie he wore, an ill-looking shade similar to that of piss, to be frank. It clashed with the carefully smoothed purple suit jacket, bringing a slight bit of pain to the back of Michael's eyes. 

He looked down at his damned card as he leaned forwards to call into his microphone,"Miss Jessica Quaid, please step forwards to meet your match." Michael cursed under his breath as he watched the young woman stand with a blank expression. She smoothed out the gentle perrywinkel, floral dress before walking to the opposite set of steps, walking to meet Michael. She tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear before giving Michael a soft smile, holding her hand out to him. With distain, he took the hand, leaning down to kiss it. 

A month passed before Michael met the man that made his heart leap. He had gone out with Gavin, Ray, and Kdin, just as the cold hearted woman had gone out with her own friends, whose names had slipped Michael's mind the moment he heard them. He talked with Gavin, as Ray and Kdin talked to one another on some political subject that had slipped past the others. 

"So how's your mate, Michael?" He shrugged a little as he launched into detail on how she was a nit picky little bitch, who had a rule for everything and was constantly trying to mold him into what she considered to be the perfect man. "I mean, I would call her worse than nicotine, if it was at all possible to get addicted to a piece of shit," he stated at the end of his rant. 

Gavin was pleased to say that he actually enjoyed his mate, an older male by the name of Geoff, but as he launched into an explanation of how he may seem like any old heartless brute on the outside, but really was a gentle kind guy, Michael got distracted by a man sitting alone at the bar. 

His icy blue eyes stared into an amber drink in one hand, while the other hand worked on a piece of paper with a blue pen. Occasionally, he would gently bite the end cap of it, his brows furrowing in concentration as he let the pen go to run a hand through his blonde locks. And that was the moment where Michael finally made the decision to fuck the government. At a polite moment, he left the conversation with Gavin to walk over to the man. 

He walked over and sat down beside the man, smiling softly at him, glancing down at the golden band on his finger before speaking. "Hey, can I buy you a drink?" By that time, the man had finished his drink, and hadn't placed an order for a second. He looked up at Michael and gave a wry, tired smile. "Sure. What's your name?" Michael grinned as he stated his name, calling a bartender over to give him a drink. "Michael. Yours?" "Ryan."

Over the next few weeks, he found himself giving off excuses to meet the man again. He called Ryan, at first, only occasionally, once every few weeks to go get a drink. He steadily increased to call every Friday. Until the. Actual confession happened, where he made a complete fool of himself. 

On that particular night, Michael may have been a little out of himself, willed towards the confession with the help of a few glasses of particularly strong alcohol. He sat beside Ryan, laughing quietly over some stupid mitochondria joke Ryan had made. As Ryan chuckles died down as well, he moved closer to him, taking one of the pieces of paper Ryan always seemed to have with him (his excuse for this was the reporting job he actually enjoyed), and began to write. 

Ryan frowned at the paper once it was handed to him, with a simple statement, but one that he had never heard before. 'I love you.' He looked to Michael before nodding a little and taking his hand and leading him out of the bar. They did the stupid thing. They ran. They ran for their own sake, and the sake of all others like them, the hope that there were others like them. 

And so, this was how they ended dead on the side of Highway 39, a bullet through each of their hearts.


End file.
